


That Effing Poll

by kesdax



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3607092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesdax/pseuds/kesdax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root's on a deadline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Effing Poll

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon on tumblr. Posting it on here now that I've finally come up with a title. Or, you know, just my general thoughts on the whole stupid thing.

“Root, it’s four o’clock in the fucking morning,” said Shaw, blinking at the brightness from the lamp next to Root’s laptop. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Writing code,” said Root absently. Her focus was still on the laptop screen, her fingers a blur across the keypad.

“Code?” said Shaw, rubbing at her eyes and suppressing a yawn. “And this couldn’t wait until daylight because...”

“Because I’m on a deadline,” said Root. She bit her lip in concentration. She was so focused that Shaw was surprised she was even in tune with their conversation. Or perhaps the Machine was telling her when to speak.

“Deadline?” said Shaw. “Deadline for what?”

“Can’t talk,” said Root, “no time.”

“Is this for the Machine?” Shaw asked. Excitement thrummed through her at the thought of working a relevant number again. Surely Root would invite her along and if she didn’t? Well... Shaw had other  _ways_  of persuading her…

“Sort of,” Root muttered. She paused long enough in her typing to wave Shaw away. Under normal circumstances, Shaw would have been affronted by the dismissal, but right now, she was far too tired for that.

“Whatever,” Shaw muttered, trying to sound uncaring. It’s not like she cared about Root’s stupid mission anyway. It would probably just be boring computer stuff anyway. Pfft, Shaw didn’t need the hassle. Plus... it did mean she got the bed to herself for the rest of the night.

*

“Have you been up all night?”

Shaw wandered into the kitchen, enticed by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. It was a rhetorical question. She  _knew_  Root had been up all night. Or, at least, she had never come back to bed. It wouldn’t be the first time Root crashed out on the couch or fell asleep at her desk with her head resting uncomfortably next to her laptop.  _Despite_  Shaw warning her several times not to. But did she ever listen? Did she fuck and Shaw was getting impatient with digging out pain killers and listening to Root whine about the best and only logical solution would be for Shaw to give her a neck massage.

Which, when Shaw thought about, was probably  _exactly_  why Root never bothered to go the extra five feet into the bedroom.

“Yup,” said Root. Shaw watched as she poured coffee into a travel mug, added three teaspoons of sugar and a dash of milk that was so pointless she shouldn’t have bothered.

“You’re going out?” said Shaw. She frowned. It was Sunday. They had  _plans._  Shaw never made plans and the one time she did, Root decided to go all fucking mysterious hacker woman on her.

“On a deadline, remember?” said Root. She tossed her teaspoon into the sink and Shaw glared at it, standing in the doorway so Root couldn’t get past. Root rolled her eyes and quickly retrieved the spoon from the sink, giving it a quick rinse under the faucet before putting back in the drawer. This time, Shaw let her past, staring as Root rested her travel mug on the coffee table so she could pull her leather jacket on. She gathered up her laptop case and coffee and reached for the front door without a word.

“Wait,” said Shaw, sounding more annoyed than she intended. Root raised an eyebrow at her, one hand still on the door handle. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Oh,” said Root and quickly stepped over to Shaw to give her a quick peck on the lips. “See you later.”

“Wait - no,” said Shaw, exhaling loudly in frustration. “I meant, don’t you need back-up?”

“Oh,” said Root. “Probably not.”

“Are you sure?” said Shaw. She was already pulling her boots on, determinedly ignoring that stupid fond look that was always on Root’s face these days. “Because I wouldn’t mind. Sunday’s are boring and Finch already gave me the day off.”

“Awh,” said Root, grinning smugly now. “That’s sweet.”

“No it’s not,” said Shaw through clenched teeth.

“You’re worried about me,” said Root, positively shining with glee now.

“No I’m not,” said Shaw. She pointedly checked that her gun was loaded even though she knew it already was. But not even the sound of the magazine clicking into place was enough to wipe the smirk off of Root’s face. “Are we going or not?”

“Fine,” said Root, opening the door and gesturing for Shaw to go ahead of her.

Shaw glowered, but moved into the hallway as Root locked up. Long past were the days where Shaw wouldn’t dare turn her back on Root. Now she had a key to Shaw’s apartment. Speaking of which... Shaw was pretty sure she had never actually  _given_  her the damn key.

“You can drive,” said Root, tossing Shaw the car keys. Shaw caught them deftly, frowning at Root as they headed outside and it only deepened when Root reeled off an address in Midtown.

“Wanna tell me where we’re going?” Shaw asked once they were in the car. She gritted her teeth when the only answer she received was a wide grin around a mouthful of coffee. It never ceased to annoy her that Root could be so fucking chirpy after little or no sleep. “Are you at least going to share that?” said Shaw, gesturing to Root’s travel mug as she pulled out onto the street.

“Nope,” said Root.

_What a fucking surprise,_  Shaw thought

*

“What the fuck is Zimbio anyway?” Shaw asked, staring around at the large server room. Root was currently knee deep in computer bits, her laptop hooked up to the mainframe.

“An online magazine,” came Root’s muffled response. Shaw glanced over, rolling her eyes at the cable tangling from Root’s mouth.

“Did you just say online magazine?” Shaw asked, tugging the cable from Root’s mouth and holding it for her. Root nodded. “What the hell does the Machine want with an online magazine?”

“Oh,” said Root. Her cheeks went slightly pink, her voice an octave higher and Shaw narrowed her eyes at her. Root coughed and shoved her head back into the server. “This isn’t for the Machine.”

“Then what the hell are we doing here?” Shaw asked at the same time as a security guard found them and shouted, “What the hell do you think you’re doing in here?”

“Sweetie, could you...” said Root, gesturing at the guard and shooting Shaw her best puppy dog eyes. As if they actually ever fucking worked on her.

Shaw sighed and dropped the cable to the floor. “Fine.”

“And it’s probably best if you  _don’t_  shoot him,” Root advised.

“Right,” said Shaw tightly, as she slammed her fist into the security guard’s face. At least she was going to get  _some_  fun out of this.

*

“A fucking poll?” said Shaw incredulously. Foot pressed down on the accelerator, tires screeching beneath them, Shaw got them as far away from the Zimbio offices as fucking possible. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You don’t understand,” said Root, gripping onto her seat as Shaw swerved violently around a corner. “That pairing  _can’t_  win. They’re not a real couple. They’re not even  _lesbians_.”

“I can’t believe you,” said Shaw, shaking her head. “Why do you even care? You don’t even watch TV.”

“It’s a matter of principle,” said Root simply. “Besides, that other couple is  _way_  hotter.”

Shaw rolled her eyes. “What exactly did you do? That code?”

Root grinned. “Just made sure that every vote for the Royal Bird ship counted against them.”

“You rigged the vote?” said Shaw, impressed despite herself. “You stayed up all night to rig a vote for some stupid magazine poll that doesn’t actually mean anything?”

“Well...” said Root, starting to sound a little doubtful now. “When you put it like that... It’s the principle of the thing, okay?” she said adamantly.

“You are un-fucking-believable,” Shaw muttered, shaking her head.


End file.
